


The Future the Almighties Abandoned

by Eeveeknight



Series: Dystopia AU [1]
Category: Patapon, Patapon 3 - Fandom
Genre: Dystopia, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 09:26:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15385761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eeveeknight/pseuds/Eeveeknight
Summary: The Almighty Patapons have abandoned the world again- but not of their own free will.They had been tricked. Their physical vessels, along with close friends and family, were sealed away in an unknown location.In this Godless world, things have fallen apart at the seams.Everyone has been segregated once more,rumors and stereotypes float about freely,everything seems hopeless to the common man.That is, until a few seemingly ordinary folk have decided they have had enough.





	The Future the Almighties Abandoned

**Author's Note:**

> I kinda, woke up one morning with an idea. I really liked this idea, but I had no idea what to do with it.   
> Then the cogs in my brain area began turning and oops! Story.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

They were meeting in the depths of an old, long abandoned temple within the abandoned parts of Old Patapolis. They were a mixed group of regular Patapons and Mogyu Rarepons, their leaders were three well-to-do Grenburrs:

 

Maud the Strong

 

Apis the Planner

 

And Elda, the Leader.

 

They called themselves _The Alliance of the Bull._

 

They were gathered in a rather pristine little room, one that was miraculously saved from the ruin the rest of temple had faced. They could figure why that was, though. The room only held a little shrine dedicated to a long-dead Wondabarappa female- one who held the original mask. Shriveled up flowers wasted away on the floor, the little candles that were there hadn't been lit in centuries, the faded photographs of a little family who probably once lived here had been untouched.

 

It had been suggested at one point that these artifacts be donated to a museum, but Elda refused on the grounds of respect.

 

The Alliance had assumed that this room was secret, and that they were safe to discuss their plans here. They did not know that this room was also the favorite spot of one particular Myamsar, who loved to sneak in and hide in it when he fought with his alcoholic parents.

 

He always came in through a hole in the ceiling. It was right by a dark, relatively untouched corner in the room, the Alliance hardly noticed it.

It was the third time that week his parents had gotten sopping drunk again, and he needed a break from them. Just for a little while, at least. He was tired of being their practical servant, but they owned the roof above his head. 

All he could do on the way was mutter grievances to himself.

 

"Stupid parents... Getting all drunk all the time... Saying they don't have a son! What's wrong with them?!"

 

He slipped into the crumbling temple and snuck through the place to his hidden room. The door was always locked, so he climbed up to the hole, ready to squeeze through and have his moment of peace.

 

Except, the room was occupied! And by a pack of Mogyus and high-ranking Patapons no less! 

He should've left right then and there, leave those brutes to their secret little meeting in a decrepit temple because their private mansion wasn't private enough. And yet... Curiosity overtook him, and he listened in to their conversation.

 

The biggest one- a female Grenburr Uberhero- took the stage.

 

"...It's with the continued wit of Apis and his colleges that have gotten us so far." The Grenburr said. "We are within reach of our final goal! It is so close, my friends!"

 

He felt like he had to cover his ears a little bit. She spoke in a loud, completely overbearing and commanding voice. Yet, there was no hint of authoritative aggressiveness in it. Her tone was more like a mother addressing her children, there was a gentle feel to her voice it seemed.  
It really put the Myamsar off, but he continued listening in.

 

"Soon enough, we will reach the inner depths of Earthend. Yes, the place where the Almighty Patapons are being held!"

 

So, they wanted to find the Almighties again? He liked these guys so far! The Almighty Patapons, with their aeons of wisdom and tact, would be able to fix the whole world! Everything would be better with them, he was sure!

 

"...And, judging by the scripts Maud recovered, the unsealing of the Almighty Patapons will entitle us to a single, perfect wish..."

 

Oh? A wish? Seems fair... The others in the group began talking about this wish.

 

"We rid the world of Zigotons and Karmen! We deserve the entire earth!"

"I believe that we should have them influence the minds of the people beneath us, make them more... Controllable. They've no need for free will."

"Eliminate the Sabaras and Gyabas! Then, we will hold all the power!"

 

"No." The leader silenced them. "I shall make the wish. I will have them make me into an Almighty, one more powerful than themselves. I will have control over this world and many others! Everything is wrong, everyone is misguided... I alone, with my reason and mind, will mend it! The opposition be damned!"

 

...On second thought, these guys didn't seem that friendly after all. He had to get out of here, and tell someone-

He shifted to shimmy back out of the hole, but he had hit a weak point in the stone.

It finally gave way.

 

"AaaAaH- Oof!"

The gray and brown Myamsar fell through the ceiling and flopped onto the floor. If the room was a chattering mess or stunned silent, he couldn't tell. All he focused on was the world of hurt that fall caused him.

 

"Ow ow ow owww..." He whimpered. Looking up, the group had surrounded him, all wide-eyed in horror. He couldn't see where those Grenburrs had gone, though-

 

"Waugh!! Ow! Stop!" He yelped when a hand gripped him like the cat he was with the force of a brute and lifted him up. Fumyas were the only Rarepons to have something like a scruff, but a grip like that was bound to hurt!

 

"Seems like we have ourselves a little spy!" Maud snarled. "Figures you're a Fumya- and a Myamsar no less! Come to rob us of our plans and leave us dead?"

 

"What? N-no! I couldn't even if I wanted to!"

 

"But if you wanted to, you would!" The Grenburr lifted him higher, and tightened her grip. "We oughta just kill this one right here, Lady Elda! You know, as a demonstration on what happens to snitches!"

 

**"No.** Set him down this instant, Maud." Elda, the commanding ringleader, demanded. Her voice alone seemed to weaken wills, the brutish Maud lowered him to the floor and gave him room to recover.

He honestly expected her to drop him like a hot brick.

 

Elda approached the Myamsar and lowered herself to the floor to meet his face. She brought her hands to delicately hold his cheeks and guide his eye to look into hers. Geez, everything about the way she acted just made him think she was the reincarnation of Mary Ponpins. He was actually starting to tear up.

 

"...You are in serious trouble." Elda told him in an unusually gentle and tender voice for something so point-blank. "How did you find this place?"

 

"...I uh... I come here to uh... Calm myself down... Just to get some peace..." He quivered.

"And why's that?"

"...My parents are uh... D-drunk, right now."

"... _Pity."_

Silence hung in the air. The Myamsar bowed his head and choked back a sob. "P-please don't hurt me!"

More silence as Elda simply stared at him.

 

"...I'm telling you, Elds." Maud grumbled. "We really should just, you know, dispatch em. This is all a sick little sympathy act, really. The dumb cat'll blab the second you turn him loose." Maud took a threatening step forward. "Here, I'll do it quickly-"

 

"I said no." Elda affirmed. "He is young, and I do not allow for any youths to be harmed by any of you. Is that clear?"

 

Her following, possibly in fear, nodded. They each knew that Elda's bad side would mean certain death, for sure.

 

"And yet." Elda sighed. "We cannot take any risks. You know too much, young one." She gently rubbed his ears, but the action only made the growing lump of fear in his chest take a severe drop. "Luckily for you, Apis has a solution that will allow for us to spare you." 

 

Relief set in. So they wouldn't kill him...

"...But first. I must apologize for this, young one."

"What are you-"

In the blink of an eye, Elda had struck a pressure point with enough force to send the Myamsar into unconsciousness. She caught his limp body before he could crash to the floor, holding him gently in her arms like he were her own child. She sat down on the floor with him, and made sure to expose the back of his neck to Apis. The much more quieter Grenburr had been preparing something in a vial, and was siphoning some of it into a vaccine.

 

"Just what you want, Lady Elda." He murmured as he knelt down. The Grenburr gingerly injected the solution into the Myamsar's neck. "A combination of Blackout and a severe strain of Laryngitis. He will have no memory of this, or anything of the past for that matter. And if they should return, he will be unable to tell anyone."

 

Elda smiled. "...Perfect. Thank you, Apis." She stood, carrying the boy in her arms. "I will leave relocation to you then, Apis. I have reason to believe that Maud would try to strangle him if we let her do it."

 

"Hah!" Maud snorted. "It's for our own good, Elds!"

 

Elda handed him off to Apis, who silently went on his way. "Let this be a demonstration to you all." She bellowed. "The activities here are to be kept a _secret._ None but us are allowed to hear of the details of this plan. Should we weed out any traitors, you may not be shown the same mercy."

 

She glared at them. "Is this understood?"

 

Silence, an act of understanding among them.

 

"...Good. You are dismissed."

 

They didn't hesitate to clear out, leaving only Elda and Maud behind to linger.

"...Geez, Elds." Maud chortled. "Judging from the look in 'yer eye, I thought you were ready to freakin' _adopt_ the little wretch."

"...Hm... You know that would be forbidden." Elda murmured. "He deserves to at least live his life, however long it be. I wish it didn't have to be steeped in confusion, with an impairment as well. But... At least he lives."

"Man, what's with you, Elda? I never thought you'd be the type to turn into such a softie around kids!"

 

Elda shook her head, and looked away. "Ah, Maud. There are things about me that I have kept as secret, even from you."

 

The two stood in silence for a time, thinking on the event that had just transpired. Maud was turning to leave...

"See to it that the hole is covered up, and search for any more weak points in this place." Elda requested.

"Sure thing, Elds."

 

The elder Grenburr leaned against the stone wall. "Ah! I just realized... I never asked for his name!" She laughed softly. "Pity. That does not matter anymore."

 

~~~

 

Apis was confident in not being seen at this time of night, any normal citizen would be in their home by now. Everywhere... Except the Fumya Community. 

_The nocturnal little beasts. This is when they're most active._

As much as Elda would've preferred he be dropped off within his own Community, Apis couldn't risk it. He'd have to drop the runt off in the middle of some other Community. 

 

Apis dragged his feet to the quiet Mofeel Community, and slunk into the slightly more populated part of it. He'd have to find someplace to leave his load, someplace secluded, but where he'd still be found.

The back alley by a doctor's office would do.

He'd have to be quick about it, though. The kid could wake up at any moment.

 

Apis carefully maneuvered around trashbins, and made his way to a dead end. He tossed the Myamsar onto a convenient mattress too filthy for normal use. If he was lucky, maybe the owner of "Cloudheart Family Doctors Office" would be kind enough to treat him.

 

Then again... Mofeels were thought to be very defensive of their kind, but also quite lazy. They were likely to either do nothing, or chase him out.

 

"Best of luck to you, kid." Apis grumbled. He hurried to exit the Community and report to Elda.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

For at least four days now, Mora had been hearing something from the alley behind their home. She had asked her father if she could investigate, but he adamantly refused, insisting it was merely a stray animal that would go away once garbage collectors came that Friday.

 

She tried to think nothing of it.

 

On Thursday, a shipment of medicine was to come to the clinic. However, they got a call informing them that the delivery chariot lost a wheel on the way, and they'd have to come pick it up themselves.  
That wouldn't have been so bad, if it wasn't pouring rain outside.

 

"Mora," Her Guardira father said as he peered into her bedroom. "Could you come help me get the medicine?"

"Ah, alright Dad." Mora, who also wore a Guardira mask yawned. Her mask was more like her mother's, her father said. It was brown, with blue markings. While her father adorned a blue-gray mask with dirty white markings.  
Mora wondered what her mother looked like... She had never met her, and her Father disliked talking about what had happened to her.

 

The walk to the wrecked chariot, which a bit long and somewhat miserable due to the constant rain, would've normally made Mora reasonably upset. However, she was willing to use this situation to her advantage- the route to the chariot passed right by that dead end alley. Mora was hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever was making all that noise back there, and finally sate her curiosity and let her sleep easy.

 

"There you guys are!" The optimistic Mofurumo Dekapon chimed as he handed them both parcels of vaccines, medications, some saline, and a whole bunch of other stuff as well! 

 

"Stay safe now, you two!" The Dekapon said as they walked off. Though, that seemed to strike her father as odd. He turned around to chat with the fella.

"Whatever do you mean, friend?" Her father inquired in a warm tone.

"Oh nothin', I was just hearing rumors of something lurking the streets in the dark." The Dekapon told them. "It's probably nothing, but you never know now, huh?"

Her father chuckled. "You don't have to worry. This Community is one of the safest out there, is it not? Besides, if there was an intruder, I'd send them flying!"

"Ha. I don't doubt that, Mister Enan." 

 

Her father was being a little... Distant, lately. Mora had noticed how quiet and unsure he had been around her. She was going to be starting Sophomore year the coming month... Was he worried? Maybe she was the one being distant, come to think of it...

 

"Something up, Mora?" Her father spoke up. "You're oddly quiet today."

"Oh! Oh... I think I might just be a bit tired, is all." Mora murmured, shaking her head.

"Hm... Sorry about having to drag you out here in the rain. I'll let you nod off in peace when all this is put away."

 

They were reaching the alley. This was it, all she needed was a peek, and she'd see whatever was in there. That was it, that was all she needed-

But... Did she hear coughing?

 

"Dad? You hear that?" Mora stopped in her tracks, and listened for the sounds through the rain. 

"Hear what now-"

"Shh!"

 

They listened in silence, and then they heard it again.  
 _Deep, severe dry coughing._

 

"It's coming from the alley!" Mora set down her package and ran off, much to Enan's dismay.

_"MORA!"_ He called back. Growling, he snatched her discarded package and put both of them by the front door of the clinic before running into the alley after her.

 

Mora made it to the dead end, and stood in shock of the sight before her eyes.

  
A Myamsar, one just about her age with a gray and brown mask, was writhing on the mattress her father had discarded earlier that week. He was very clearly ill with something very severe, his shirt had spots of blood on it even! _Was he coughing up blood!?_

This rain was only aggravating his condition, she bet. She just couldn't leave him like this.

 

"Oh no! Oh dear!" Mora cried, abandoning any sense of caution to run to the young man's side. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

The Myamsar looked at her for a moment before he was overcome with another coughing fit. Possibly in a move to try and contain the illness, he had put his hand over his mouth. 

 

Good move, too. He proceeded to hack a load of blood into his very soiled glove, much to Mora's horror.

This poor thing was in terrible shape, anyone could've told you that just by looking at him. The teal short-sleeved hoodie and blue jeans he wore were darkened with a layer of dirt and rainwater. His mask had specks of blood on it in places, the fluffy fur behind it was ragged and unkempt. He was trembling from the cold rain and overall strain this disease was having on his body, the poor Fumya just looked plain exhausted. 

 

It was impossible to not take pity on him.

 

Mora was kneeling by the Myamsar's side and gently rubbing his back when her father showed up. He wore a look of absolute horror, disgust, and prejudice all at the same time. It didn't matter if he wore a mask, it was defiantly there.

 

"Mora..." He said softly. "Get away from that thing."

"Dad, he's sick!" She cried. "It's something really bad, too! Look at his shirt- look at the blood!"

"Exactly why you need to get away from 'em." He tried to negotiate.

"Dad, we need to help him-"

"Absolutely not." He growled. "You know their type, this is just so it can get in the house and-"

"Almighty above- _Listen to yourself!"_ Mora chided. "Are you seriously going to just-"

"Yes, I am." Enan snapped. He was starting to take threatening steps forward. "I'll call someone to pick up the body when-"

 

Mora was horrified. He didn't just say that, did he? Oh, _she was at her boiling point with him now!_  
"What kind of a doctor are you!? How can you say that to someone so desperately in need!?" Mora yelled. She was unconsciously holding the boy in a sort of light, defensive hug. 

"I'm not going to-"

_"Would Mom have done that?"_ It was Mora's turn to snap now. _"Would Mom have let someone die like this!? If you let him die, his blood is on your hands, Dad!!"_

Silence hung in the air between them all, the only sound besides the rain being the Myamsar's horrible raspy breaths. The poor thing was probably in a panic with all the yelling they were doing.

 

"...Augh. Fine. Have it your way." Her father sighed, his raised shoulders finally dropping. He made his way to the Myamsar and lifted him into a fireman's carry. "I'll treat him, but he's getting chained to the bed. That's a non-negotiable."

Mora rolled her eye behind her mask. He was insufferable. "Alright then."

_"AND_ as soon as he's stable, he's going right back to the community where he belongs. Don't get attached to him, you hear?"

"Are you insinuating that I was planning on kidnapping him?"

"I... Urgh. Whatever. Just bring the medicine inside."

 

Mora smiled. _He has been sufficiently defeated._

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

The doctor carried the Myamsar into an examination room and set him down in a bed. The room had a considerable amount of clutter, as it housed medical equipment, drawers, a large desk with high shelves containing bottles of medicines, and a walk-in bathroom. The floors were wooden, and creaked with age at every step. Plain blue curtains did an excellent job at shielding any patients from nosy passers-by, the diminished light from the rainy day casting a bluish-gray glow on the floor. The room had quite a friendly feel to it, despite the fact that his current doctor had to be guilted into even examining him.

 

From one of the many drawers within the room, he withdrew some very large (but very clean) clothes and tossed them to him.

 

"Here, change into these if you got the strength." He grumbled. 

The Myamsar hesitated, looking a bit flustered...

"Oh for heaven's sake." The Guardira snarled, but relented and turned his back. _"There,_ that's as much privacy as you're getting now. Just change so we can examine you already."

 

He didn't have the mental energy to be upset at how much of a hardass this guy was being. He just hoped he'd cure him like he said.

The Myamsar willed his strength to stand up and and rid himself of his old clothes, happily slipping on the clean garments- a big tan sweater and some sweatpants. He nearly buckled under his own weight when he sat back down on the bed.

 

"...You done yet?" The Guardira grumbled some more. "Y'aint much of a talker, are ya? Or are you just shy or whatever?"

The Myamsar began coughing his lungs out again, an involuntary reminder of his current condition.

 

"Yeah yeah okay, lie down." The doctor turned around, already reaching for a stethoscope to begin his examination and eventual diagnosis.

 

~~~

 

Mora came into the examination room with a clipboard under her arm, a sympathetic expression on her face. 

"How's it looking so far, Dad?" The young lady asked in a voice that was trying to remain calm.

 

Enan was leaning over the Myamsar, whose mask was currently off. He was peering down the kid's throat and wincing.

"...Not good, huh?" Mora murmured, eyeing a discarded tissue loaded with blood.

"Honestly, Mora? This is the worst case of laryngitis I have ever seen." Enan sighed, releasing the kid and letting him put his mask back on. "Just looking at his throat... Hmph. It's no wonder it hasn't been very chatty. I'm not sure if he can ever speak again, even with a full recovery! Sorry kid... I think this'll probably be leaving you a _mute_ for the rest of your natural born life."

 

Shocked, the Myamsar tried to exclaim something, but only ended up coughing into a tissue more. He must've been in a moment of panic, he kept trying to yell or shout something, anything... But to no avail. If he didn't start immediately coughing, he'd just make a sad, wheezing noise instead. 

"Hey, settle down now!" Enan scolded, setting his hand on the kid's shoulder and squeezing it. "You're not going to make it any better by doing that! in fact, you'll probably just make it worse for yourself!"

 

That seemed to do the trick. He was forced to take some deep breaths and try to calm down... Only to begin another fit. He snatched a clean tissue just in time and avoided spilling some blood on the floor. This was starting to give him a big, tiring headache...

 

"...That's horrible." Mora sighed, looking a bit downcast. "You poor thing... I'm so sorry."

 

She began to look around the room for something, poking around the drawers of a nightstand and the desk. Finally, she withdrew a big, college-bound notebook that had been going relatively unused. From the same drawer, she also broke out a pencil.

 

"Here, can you write?" She said as she offered him the articles. With somewhat shaky hands, he took them and turned to the next blank page. Relief set in when he began writing.

 

_Yes, I can._

"That's good to hear!" Mora chimed. "Dad has to write down a diagnosis for you, ya see. What's your name?"

 

The Myamsar looked despondent as he wrote his reply;

 

_I don't know._

"...Hrm? Whaddaya mean 'you don't know?'" Enan grumbled.  
The Myamsar continued to write.

 

_I woke up in the alley four days ago. Can't remember anything before then._

"Oh no... Retrograde amnesia?" Mora murmured.

 

He looked a bit confused as he wrote, _Sure?_

"Aw great! That just complicates everything now, doesn't it?" Enan hissed, snatching up the clipboard. "Patient "MF" it is..."

"What's that supposed to mean, Dad?"  
 _"Patient Myamsar Fumya,_ since figuring out his actual name is a bust. Check his pockets, Mora. Does he have an ID in there?"

 

Mora gingerly scooped up his clothing and searched the pockets. "...Nothing, I'm afraid."

"Almighties... Wherever the hell you are, help us." Enan sighed. "Diagnosis, severe acute bacteria-borne laryngitis. I'll have to start a prescription for you-"

 

_"...Sniff..."_

The Guardiras looked to their patient, who was starting to cry. Tears dripped onto the notebook as he tried to write. It was messy, but legible.

 

_I won't be able to speak!? Are you sure??? Am I going to write in this notebook forever????_

 

_I'm confused..._

_This is scaring me... Please... I can't remember anything!  
_

_Please cure it! Help me!!  
_

_What happened to me!?  
_

_**Who am I!?!?**   
_

 

He threw down the notebook and began to sob helplessly, which only ended in more coughing.

 

"Urk!" That seemed to take the doctor aback. "What're you-"

"Oh... Oh no..." Mora, despite her better judgement, sat down at his side and wrapped her arms around the Myamsar. "It's alright, you'll be alright... We'll help you, MF, we promise..."

"Mora, _please be careful."_ Her father groaned. "I don't want you getting this, too."

"I don't care." She asserted. "He's clearly distressed. We call this _bedside manner,_ and I think you need to brush up on it."

Enan narrowed his eye. He was either frustrated, or just as upset. She couldn't tell.

"...Ugh. Okay, alright, let's just..."

 

He stepped into the bathroom and grabbed a paper cup, filling it with tap water before coming back to the desk. He selected a bottle from a shelf, checking the label briefly before opening it and withdrawing a tablet, which he popped in the water to dissolve. He handed the solution to the Myamsar.

 

"Here, drink this when you get that coughing under control." He commanded. passing the cup to the Myamsar once Mora let go of him.

He sniffled some more and tried to wipe away and remaining tears before he downed the water solution.

 

"There, now just lie down and try to get a hold of yourself." The doctor tsked.

MF reached down and picked the notebook and pencil back up, writing _What did you give me?_

"Medicine. You'll see." Was his curt reply. "Now stop being difficult and lie down. Just do what I say and you'll be fine."

 

He wheezed and obeyed, choosing to curl up on the bed. Not five minutes passed before raspy, steady breaths could be heard from him. MF had fallen into a deep, peaceful sleep- something he very clearly needed.

 

"...What did you give him, Dad?" 

"Some very strong melatonin- knockout pills. The thing looked exhausted, probably nearly fell asleep three times when I was examinin' him."

"Oh..." Mora sighed. Tears were brimming in her eye as well. "Dad..."

"Er... Yeah... It is a bit upsetting." Enan admitted, glancing back at Patient MF. "He can't be any older than you are... Oh, Almighty above... You don't know how terribly _scared_ I'd be if that happened to you."

"I bet... His parents are worried sick." She whimpered. "I can't imagine how _scared_ they all all are!"

"Easy now, I just got em to sleep. Don't go waking him." 

 

The elder Guardira lumbered over to the sleeping Myamsar and lifted him up. "Alright, MF, let's get you to the guest bed."

"We can't keep calling him that." Mora whined. "It's probably.... _Really humiliating_ , for him at least. It must make him feel like less of a person."

"...Well, what do you want to do then?"

"At least give him an actual name!" Mora narrowed her eye. "Come on, don't make him cry again. That's just horrible."

"Alright then, fine." He relented. "...Grey. I'm calling him Grey, 'cause his mask is gray. Is that enough?"

Mora smiled and nodded.

 

"Good... Just can't stand crying kids, you know?" Enan murmured under his breath. "He'll be needing the notebook, just leave it by his side upstairs.

"Got it!" Mora chimed.

"And uh... Be sure to disinfect after all this."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Thunder boomed outside, and he awoke with a start.

 

His throat was alight with pure agony, a box of tissues and a notebook with a sharpened pencil were on a nightstand beside him. There were a few other things on that nightstand, such as a television remote and a few well-worn novels, but those were the first things he could recognize. 

 

_The heck happened last night?_ He wondered. _Uh... Memory loss and... Muteness..._

In the the vain hope that something had gotten better, he tried his voice again. All that came out was a raspy exhale of some kind.

No, they were right. His voice was all but gone.

 

He flopped down onto the bed and tried to stop himself from crying again. He completely failed, and tears slipped from his eyes again.

_Please let this be a dream. Don't let this be real, please_ -

 

"Bringing some medicine and- Oh! You're awake!" Mora, the more pleasant and kind one from the examination, had entered the room. She carried what he logically assumed was medicine- a pill bottle and a cup of some kind of liquid. He hurried to swipe away any tears, crying like that was embarrassing as all hell. 

 

"..Huh? Oh, were you crying?" Mora said gently as she sat down at the bedside. "No, it's okay. This is probably really traumatic to have to go through all at once, it's okay to cry."

 

He shook his head and grabbed the notebook. Flipping to another page, he wrote.

_I'm not a wuss._

 

"Alright, tough guy. Hold it back all you want, but you're taking the medicine still." Mora cooed. She handed him a pill, and then the cup once he downed the pill. Whatever herbal mixture that cup contained had the consistency of potato soup, had the color of eyeball cabbages, and had no distinguishable smell.

One sip of whatever liquid that was had him reeling.

 

He hastily set the cup down and wrote in the notebook,

_It's bitter!!_

 

"Oh? Not a fan of bitter things, are you?" Mora giggled. "Sorry, but if you want to get better, Dad says you'll need to down that whole thing, daily."

He looked unhappy at this prospect.

"Hold your breath while you drink it." Mora suggested. "It helps a little."

 

He gulped. Taking the cup again, the Myamsar did as he was told and held his breath as he drank. The mere effort of swallowing something so bitter must've taken out some of his willpower, but he wrote in the notebook anyways.

_Thanks. That helped._

"Aw, no problem, Grey!" Mora smiled warmly. The Myamsar was taken aback.

 

_Grey?_

"Oh, you see... We didn't want to keep calling you "MF" over and over again. So uhh... We kinda gave you a kind of nickname. Dad picked it out, 'cause your mask is gray!"

The Myamsar was silent for a bit. _They named me?_ He thought.

"It's alright if you don't like it! We can think of something else if you-"

_No._ Grey wrote. _I like it._

"Oh! That's great, Grey!" Mora chimed. "Don't worry, you'll be better soon. Then we can return you to your parents and you can- Huh?"

Grey was sniffling again, and still writing.

_Thank you, Mora. Thank you for being so nice to me. And giving me an identity.  
_

"Aw, Grey..." Mora scooted close and pulled him into a hug. "It's okay, let it out. Tears are healthy, you know? You're not a wuss if you have to cry now and then- oh!"

 

Grey had reached out and unexpectedly hugged back. The poor thing clung like a koala bear.

"I know." Mora began. "You're probably really, _really,_ scared, aren't you?"

He nodded and let out a whimper.

"I understand that fully. Anyone would be scared, Grey. But we're going to help you, alright? My Dad seems kinda mean, but he won't turn you away... Promise." 

He nodded twice, and clung tighter. Mora began to rub his back, just like she did back in the alley. 

 

She had always been told by adults, her peers, her friends, _her father_ , such horrible things about Fumyas- Myamsars in particular. It was always in the form of a snide comment made in passing, or by overhearing the gossipy conversations of someone else.

Mora had been told that Fumyas were nothing but a group of lying, thieving thugs who backstabbed and did dirty work at their will. She had heard that in ancient times, Myamsars would prey on innocent Guardiras, their dark manipulation of shadows slipping past their great shields and allowing them to freely stab them to death. The picture painted was always of a viscous predator, one who could rob you blind and leave you dead in an instant.

 

Grey, however... He was nothing like that. Mora did not see an evil, greedy monster in him. Rather, she saw a tender, sensitive young man who desperately needed their help. He was nothing like the image everyone presented. If anything, Grey was the exact opposite! If there was ever a moment to prove all these people wrong... This was it.

 

"...Am I interrupting something?" 

Enan was standing in the doorway, a still incomplete patient form in his hands. "I was just going to ask how old you think you are, but, seeing that you're having a moment-"

Grey shook his head and released Mora, grabbing the notebook again.

_Fifteen, I think._

"Ah, I figured that. You're her age then." He murmured as he wrote in the form. "That'll pretty much complete it, Grey. We'll leave ya alone now, just use the pager if you need us for anything." The doctor pointed out a paging device on the nightstand. "You're also allowed to use the bathroom and television in here, just keep it at a reasonable volume."

 

Mora got up, waving goodbye as she left with her father. 

 

_...Seems like grumpygills dropped the nasty attitude._ Grey thought. _Though, he did seem a bit sour still. What's with him?  
_

Grey shifted a little, but something pulled on his leg.

_...Huh?_

He tried to retract his leg, but it was restrained! Grey lifted the covers, and saw he had been chained to the bed like he was some kind of prisoner.

 

_....  
That son of a bitch!_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

At least a week had passed, and Grey was making strides in his recovery. He had stopped coughing up blood by then, and his coughing in general was clearing up nicely. 

He still had to take the bitter medicine- A necessary but painful feat for him every day. If he had learnt one thing about himself, it was that bitter things like that medicine were a gift from the devil.

 

"Well, the good news is that your laryngitis is healing nicely." Enan informed him during a checkup. "The bad news, though. I'm afraid that my initial fears were true... That was one nasty infection you picked up there, Grey." He told him frankly. "It's damaged your vocal chords way past the point of no return. Sorry to say, but you're going to be living as a mute from now on."

 

Grey sighed, and wrote something.

_I know. I'll get used to it._

"Good, we've come to terms with that then... The other bad news, now." The Guardira stood up. "You remember anything yet? Anything at all about your past? Any relatives or friends to speak of?"

 

He shook his head, and pointed to a previous writing. _I still can't remember anything._

"Wishful thinking on my part, I guess." Enan sighed. "Soon enough you'll be well enough to venture yourself back into Fumya territory again. Putting you back where you belong is going to be a challenge... Do people in your parts do "Found Person" posters?"

Grey made a displeased noise and flipped back to another page, pointing to some big, bold words.

**_I DON'T KNOW._ **

****

"Alright, snappy. I was just wondering." The Guardira chortled. He lightened up when Grey made an unhappy expression at him. "...Alright. Remind me to stop tormenting you about that. That's a bit unfair on my part."

 

Grey smiled lightly, and turned to a page to point at a doodle of a happy expression.

 

"Yeah, you're very cute." Enan murmured. "Well, I'll just leave you alone then-"

He turned to leave, but some quick rustling of pages caught his attention.

_When can I eat?_

"Soon enough."

_Meat?_

"If you're lucky, squirt."

He messily wrote something. _I need protein! You said so yourself!_

"Agh, fine. I'll let you have a little extra this time." Enan gave in.

_Thank you!_

~~~

 

Today was the day. Grey was given a clean bill of health and was ready to go back to the Fumya Community.

Or should he say _night?_ He had been told that his kind were more active during the dark hours. Though, being chained to the bed and being unable to turn the lights on and off in the room he was given must've changed his sleeping habits around.

 

The clothes he had arrived in had since been disinfected, washed, and dried. They hoped that someone would be more likely to recognize him if he came in the clothes he wore when he went missing. Grey saw this as a fair point, he was alright with wearing them again if they were free of disease like Enan said.

 

He was watching the TV, waiting for Enan to come and undo the chain. Specifically, he was watching the news. He had been doing that often lately, Mora assumed he was trying to catch up on the world, and hopefully remember something. He only seemed to do it every now and then, perhaps the news channels were unpleasant?

This time it was about a group of Grenburrs who had made a generous donation to a few orphanages in different Communities.  
The story was probably supposed to be heatwarming, or possibly a publicity stunt if you wanted to be cynical.  
But Grey felt unnerved by those Grenburrs, for whatever reason...

 

A knock at the door, and Enan entered. "Grey? Lets go." The Guardira came over to the bed and undid the chains. Grey always gave him a dorky smile whenever he did that.

"Yeah, bet that makes you real happy." Enan sighed. "You'll be home soon enough. Best of luck to you, Gr-"

While Enan had probably just planned on a simple handshake, Grey went ahead and hugged the man. He even attempted a purr, but it was raspy and kind of choppy. The action, however, completely stunned the doctor.

 

"Urk! Agh... Aw, man. Never should'a named you back there." He sighed happily. "'Fraid I was starting to get attached to ya, heh."  
Flattered, Grey kept trying to purr, only to be met with the same results.

"Alright, you sap. You're purring, I believe ya."

 

"Am I... Interrupting something?" Mora giggled from the doorway. "I'd hate to break it up, but we have a bus to catch soon."

"Uh-huh, she's right." He relented. "Let's get you home."

 

~~~ 

 

The bus driver looked as if he had seen it all. A Fumya, hanging out with two Mofeels. Who would'a thunk it.

He kept glancing back at them the entire ride there. And he looked absolutely relieved when they got off.

 

As expected, the Fumya Community was very much alive at night. Fumyas of all shapes and sizes were out enjoying the night, along with a few Myamsars as well! Did any of them know him?

 

"Hey, Grey." Mora whispered. "How ya feeling?"

Grey shrugged his shoulders.

"Half nervous, but half excited, yeah?"

To that, he nodded.

The Guardira smiled. "Don't worry! You seem like a nice guy, someone oughta recognize you!"

 

It seemed that as soon as the Guardiras entered the Community, all activity slowed to a halt, and several glowing eyes were watching them carefully.

 

"Aah... Excuse me!" Enan called to the forming crowd. He pulled Grey in front of himself and held onto his shoulders. "We found this kid in the alley outside our clinic in the Mofeel Community about two weeks ago, practically dying of a severe throat infection! He uh... Lost his ability to speak, since then. And I'm afraid he also went and lost his memory! So... Um......"

 

_Oh dear, Tough Ol' Enan is cracking under the pressure._ Grey thought. _...To be fair, so am I._

It seemed to take an eternity, but at last a female Fumya spoke up.

"Didn't those crazy barflies have a kid? Haven't seen him in awhile."

"Hm? No one really sees him, actually."

"Yeah... Check the bar, why don't ya? If they ain't there, try the house at 54 Bell Street."

 

"Ah... Thank you!" Enan replied. "Come, let's check those places."

Even as they left, the other Fumyas kept their eyes on them.

 

The bar was a bit rundown and dirty, but it was still lively tonight anyways. Enan and Mora were clearly uncomfortable with the uncouth nature of it all. To be fair, so was Grey.

 

They asked everyone there, 'Do you know this kid?' But it was all the same answer.

 

"Nope. Sorry."

 

Then, they found themselves at the address they had been given. The lights were on in the house, but Mora and Enan noted how many homes were abandoned or up for sale.

For whatever reason... When he saw that house, Grey froze up. His heart began beating wildly, and the two Guardiras absolutely noticed this.

 

"What's with the clam-up, kid?" Enan grumbled impatiently. 

Grey flipped open the notebook and wrote, _This place makes me feel unsafe._

"The entire Community isn't safe." He sighed. "Come on, at least check."

Grey gave in, and dragged his feet to the front door. Enan was already knocking.

 

Another Myamsar emerged at the door- this one had a pale orange and white color scheme to his mask. And, unlike the rest of the Community, he didn't seem alarmed by the Guardiras at his door.

Oh, and he stunk of alcohol.

 

"Hmmmm yes?" The man slurred.

"Uh, hello. We uh, found this kid outside our place. He's got amnesia, and a throat infection made him a mute." Enan recited, he was getting tired at this point. "We were told you had a kid who hasn't been seen in awhile. So? Is this him? Is this your kid?" He gestured to Grey, who looked very unnerved. 

 

The orange and white Myamsar studied him for a moment, before shouting to someone in the house out of nowhere-  
"MELLA!! Mella! Tell me, I forgot, do we have a kid?"

A female voice within the house, whose tone was equally drunk, shouted back, _"I DON'T THINK SO!"_

"Daaahhhhhh we ain't got a kid." The man groaned. "Go away now. Bye."

"W-Wait!"

 

Before Enan could stop him, the door was shut in his face. Mora and Grey could both see it, the man was holding back a fit of pure rage.  
He was somehow able to control it, however, as he stormed away from the shack of a house. "Come on, let's go to the shelter."

Mora looked like she wanted to argue with him. But even she was wise enough to not try and irritate him any further than this.

 

~~~

 

"I'm sorry." The young Fumya at the front desk of the homeless shelter apologized. "I'm afraid we're all full here."

"Are there any other shelters we could go to?" Enan asked her. 

"I'm afraid not. I'm-"

 

Enan didn't let her finish as he stormed off again. "Alright, a hospital it is then-"

"Sir! The hospital has been- Erg...."

He didn't hear her out.

 

~

 

"THE HELL!?" Enan roared. **"WHY IS THEIR ONLY HOSPITAL CLOSED!?"**

"Ran outta money, bro." A local squatter informed. "No one here could afford to go into debt by going to a hospital, so the place eventually closed down."

 

Enan was absolutely fuming, everyone could see it.  
"Wait here..." The Guardira told them. He stomped off to a dying sapling, sized it up, and proceeded to beat the crap out of it. It was... A frightening sight to behold. That tiny tree simply couldn't stand up the the complete, unbridled frustration of this man.

 

"...What's up with that guy?" The squatter couldn't help but inquire.  
"I'm... Afraid he's a bit upset, right now." Mora sighed.  
"Methinks that's a bit of an oversimplification, little lady." He tsked. 

 

By the time Enan had calmed himself down enough, the tree was practically gone. It had been reduced to mere splinters by the man.

 

He took in a deep breath...

"...Ugh. Alright... Let's just... See the Police chief of this place. I wanna go home."

"Huh? Why do we need to see him?" Mora inquired.

"To report this and make sure he knows we aren't kidnapping Grey here."

"Huh!?"

 

The two teens looked shocked. "You're going to let Grey stay at our place?"  
"With luck, maybe... Just maybe, he will remember something." Enan rubbed his head. "This is a... Tricky patient, is all."

Mora and Grey, both too tired to argue, nodded in understanding.

 

~~~

 

The talk with the chief of police went unusually smoothly. He seemed very willing to let two Guardiras go off with a young Myamsar. There wasn't a shred of concern in his voice. 

 

The bus ride back to the clinic was just as awkward as the ride to the Community. But, for some strange reason, Grey felt much better being in the sleepy Community full of sheep, he fully expected to feel right at home among the other Fumyas... Yet, he only felt as alienated as ever.

_What's with that, huh?_

 

They reached the clinic at 1:09 am, a sleepy mood hung in the air as Enan dragged himself into the living quarters of the place, threw himself down on the couch, then proceeded to remove his mask and rub his eye. Mora followed her father, choosing to rest on his shoulder. The only one who didn't immediately find a place to rest was Grey, who followed the two Guardiras into a part of their home he had never seen before- a place _outside_ of the room he had been confined to.

 

Grey could only... Sort of stare at them. He felt very awkward.

 

"...I bet you're not the slightest bit tired, ey Fumya?" Enan said smartly.

_Actually, I am exhausted._ Grey replied in writing.

"...Mhhm." He muttered. "Maybe that's our fault... Are you wanting to go to bed, Grey?"

The Myamsar nodded.

"Alright." The doctor settled. "Let's-"

_Do I still have to be chained up?_

The hard look in the Guardira's eye softened slightly...

_It's just that I don't like being chained up. It's kinda sad._

_"Dad..."_ Mora muddled in a half-asleep voice. "Don't chain him up. Please."

 

His will was weakening, the elder Guardira felt he was getting soft with this kid.  
However, Enan had seen plenty of times where Grey could've pulled a dirty move on him and his daughter, any Myamsar could've if his assumptions on the species were true. Yet... He never seemed to take them. In fact, this kid was a real softie by his standards. It didn't take much to make him upset, and he was more open to crying and expressing his feelings than he had thought... Was Grey just an exceptional Fumya, or was he wrong about everything he had known?

 

"...Alright. You two win." Enan chuckled. "We're getting rid of the chains from now on, Grey. You're a good kid..."

The doctor got up from the couch and guided Grey to the stairs. "You've proven trustworthy to me so far, kid. I'll show you the rest of the house tomorrow."

He lead him up, and showed him back to the guest room he had always known. "See you tomorrow, Grey."

 

But before the youngster went to retire, Enan couldn't help but reach out and rub the Fumya's ears- the action causing Grey to let out his broken purr again.

 

_I'm glad those rumors are true, at least._ Enan thought. _They really are as cuddly as they say._


End file.
